


Nighttime

by caswell



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-16
Updated: 2016-05-16
Packaged: 2018-06-08 17:29:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6866233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caswell/pseuds/caswell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If Yata is the sun, then Fushimi is the moon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nighttime

**Author's Note:**

> I write Sarumi fluff when I'm lonely.  
> ...I'm always lonely.

_Misaki_ , Saruhiko mused, _is a bit like the sun_.

The heat of the summer sun lingered in Misaki's hair long into the evening hours, warming Saruhiko's fingers as they brushed gently through the ginger strands. He looked down at Misaki, curled up against his side with his head resting gently on his chest, and there was a twinge of heat then, feeling as if it came from Saruhiko's heart itself as he watched Misaki rest. Misaki wasn't asleep, not yet, but he made no sound besides his slow breathing, and he observed Saruhiko out of the corner of half-lidded eyes. With one finger, he traced circles onto the fabric of Saruhiko's shirt.

The silence was broken when Misaki adjusted his head to look directly up at Saruhiko and asked, "What're you thinking about?"

Saruhiko blinked, and his hand stopped combing through Misaki's hair. "I'm not thinking about anything."

Misaki shook his head. "No, you're always thinking about something. And you've got that... _look_ in your eyes." Saruhiko narrowed his eyes and cocked his head slightly to the side. "Yeah, that one."

The fingers in Misaki's hair began to move again, slower. In a resigned voice, Saruhiko sighed and said, "I was thinking that you remind me of the sun."

"The sun, huh?" Misaki closed his eyes, turned away again. "What d'you mean by that?"

"Well, for one, you're a very warm person." It's true; Saruhiko always felt a certain heat around Misaki, as if it emanated from his small body. His personality, too, was warm- sometimes, like now, it was like the comfort of a fireplace... but Saruhiko knew better than anyone that he could be deadly, an arsonist's fire, melting flesh off the bone. In those days, he thought Misaki might just burn himself to a crisp.

"Well, someone's gotta be the warm one," Misaki teased, and instinctually covered the back of his head. "Kidding, kidding."

Saruhiko give a short huff of laughter. "Relax for a second." He curled and uncurled the hair unprotected by Misaki's hand and continued, "Besides that, you're..." There was a pause, a momentary lull in the conversation as he searched for the right words. "You're bigger than your body."

Misaki lowered his hand. "'Bigger than'... what's that s'posed to mean?" Fatigue was beginning to weigh down on him, and his speech came out as a half-heard murmur. "Honestly, Saru, you say some weird things sometimes."

"When you walk into a room," Saruhiko said, ignoring Misaki's comment, "you take up the whole space- you can't be ignored, just like the sun's light can't be blocked out."

Understanding somewhat, Misaki nodded. After a brief moment, he said softly, "Then, are you like the moon?"

"Am I?"

"I think you might be," Misaki mumbled into Saruhiko's shirt. "'Cause, people think you're cold and dark, right? But... you give off your own sort of light."

Saruhiko thought it over for a second. "My own light," he echoed, voice surprisingly soft. "...Is that so?" Misaki smiled contentedly as he nodded again, and for the second time, that feeling of warmth pooled in Saruhiko's chest, a feeling of adoration that at one point he thought he might never feel again, but here it was, and here they were, and life was pretty good, wasn't it?

A light snore brought Saruhiko back to reality, and he realized Misaki had given into sleep. He laughed, quietly so he wouldn't wake him up, as he reached out and turned the knob of their bedside lamp, flooding the room with darkness.

The light of the sun illuminated the floor, reflected by the moon.


End file.
